I looked at my watch. I only had three minutes to get my butt out of
the courthouse, across the street, and into the Justice Center, but
Grace's comments about the Glenville property last night were still
bothering me.
I hit six to respond to Jenna's message. At the beep, I said, 'Hey,
Jenna. Samantha Kincaid in Major Crimes. Thanks for the information
on Gunderson. Could you do me one more favor? Can you see who owns
the adjacent parcels? Sorry for the extra work, but I forgot to bring
it up earlier.'
I hit the pound key twice to send the message, hung up, and grabbed
what I needed for court, making a vow to myself as I ran out the door.
If Gunderson didn't own the rural property beyond the urban growth
boundary, I'd let it drop.
Ten.
Word must have spread about T. J. Caffrey, because the TV crews were
back. Asked to comment on the anticipated motion to quash, I said I
was not going to address matters that had not yet been brought to
court. It sounded more civilized than, 'You mean that coward s motion
to squirm out of testifying? No comment.'
Back in the courtroom, I noticed that Roger had returned without his
client. Under the circumstances, I couldn't blame Townsend for wanting
to avoid sitting in the same room with Caffrey.
When the motion was argued, I stayed out of it as planned, but I found
myself rooting for Slip. As much as I hated the idea of letting the
defense use Caffrey as a distraction, I deplored even more the idea of
Caffrey invoking the legal process to protect his ass politically.
Fish's polka-dotted bow tie wasn't helping matters.
I watched Caffrey occasionally catch himself chewing his lower lip
while his attorney argued the motion. When Fish had finished his
presentation, he summarized his principal point. 'Your honor, Mr.
Szlipkowski's subpoena would add nothing to this case other than an
opportunity to question a high-profile public figure under oath about
private matters, a spectacle that should be permitted only if there is
a clear showing of the need for the information. Mr. Szlipkowski has
made no showing at all, let alone a clear one. Put simply, even if he
were to establish what he alleges a contention that we are not
conceding it would have no bearing whatsoever on the question of Mr.
Jackson's guilt.'
Put simply, Fish was insinuating that the subpoena was setting up a
political perjury trap. He couldn't have spun it any better,
especially for a big party Democrat like Prescott. There wasn't a soul
among the party faithful who wasn't wary about demanding answers about
sex under oath.
Slip did his best, but in the end, it was all a big so-what? So what
if Clarissa and Caffrey talked? So what if they were even boffing each
other? There was no other reason to believe that Caffrey knew anything
about Clarissa's murder.
Except, of course, that nagging coincidence that she was found and
Jackson worked at a property whose value would be determined by T. J.
Caffrey's vote.
Prescott being Prescott, she had to take a break in chambers before
issuing her ruling. When she finally retook the bench, it was clear
that Fish's spin had taken. She quashed the subpoena, thanked Caffrey
for being present in the event she had decided otherwise, and told him
he was free to leave.
Hopefully, the news crews would be waiting for him outside, yelling the
questions on the street that he'd bullied his way out of in the
courtroom.
Slip had played his last card. He did his best to gnaw away at the
medical examiner's report, arguing that the state should be barred from
proceeding until they reconciled their theory of the case with the fact
that Clarissa had been dressed after she was killed. But, in the end,
we all knew that wasn't the law. He'd have to do that kind of gnawing
in front of the jury.
'Does the defense have any more witnesses?' Prescott asked.
'Not for this afternoon, your honor,' Slip replied, 'but we had assumed
that the hearing would continue until Monday. I would like to have the
weekend to reconsider. As your honor knows, the parties were given
only a day to prepare by Judge Levinson.'
Any other judge in the courthouse would have ripped Slip a new one for
assuming anything about the length of the hearing. To judges who have
forgotten what it's like to practice, the lack of time to prepare is
never an excuse for a lack of preparation.
Prescott, however, had no problem with it. 'I was planning on taking
the weekend to consider my decision, so here's what we'll do: Reconvene
here Monday morning at nine. If either party wishes to submit
additional evidence, the record remains open. Otherwise, I will
announce my decision then. And, in the event that it makes a
difference to the lawyers, I have formed a tentative opinion based on
what I've heard today.'
She was sending a message to Slip. He was going down in flames, but